You & Me & Her & the Bottle Makes Four
by alienyouthct
Summary: Single, Willow heads to Vegas to indulge in some very clichéd behavior. But when it comes to embracing one cliché in particular, she decides it's time to go big or go home… (Willow/Elsa/Merida)


Title: _You & Me & Her & the Bottle Makes Four  
><em>Author: JoeHundredaire  
><span>Rating:<span> R/FR18.  
><span>Disclaimer:<span> Right, I actually went and checked to be sure this time… after being passed around like a slut at a frat party over the past few years, _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_, _Angel: the Series_, and all associated characters now belong to Warner Brothers. Both Elsa and Merida - and any other characters or concepts from _Frozen_ or _Brave_ - are the property of Walt Disney Animation Studios. Not mine, don't sue, et cetera.  
><span>Summary:<span> Single, Willow heads to Vegas to indulge in some very clichéd behavior. But when it comes to embracing one cliché in particular, she decides it's time to go big or go home…  
><span>Joe's Note:<span> I originally wrote - and rushed - this for International Day of Femslash… only to discover that the person whose Tumblr I'd seen a mention of it on had miscopied the date and I actually finished and published a month early. It came down shortly thereafter when I left Twisting the Hellmouth, so I decided to take advantage of its absence from the Internet to tweak it a bit before reposting it. Enjoy.  
><span>Dedications &amp; Thanks:<span> To Nicholas, Alexander, Thomas, Koby, Wil, Tracy, Christopher, Mitch, and Jess for sponsoring me on Patreon, and making it easier for me to spend more of my time writing.

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><p>Willow Rosenberg knew before she even opened her eyes that the last thing she wanted to do was… well, open her eyes. And not just because the deeper-than-bone-deep throbbing in her body meant she'd done some serious magic the night before, and she had absolutely no memory of what she'd soon be facing the consequences of. For some reason, today marked the return of that same strange, inexplicable feeling of foreboding that she'd had before the first day of school each year, and finals too. On a seemingly random morning in the March of her sophomore year of high school. On the day before the final battle in Sunnydale. The feeling that by the end of the day, something in her life would have changed forever, and precedent was that said change was usually not for the better.<p>

Oh joy.

At least she wouldn't have a hangover, an odd - but definitely not unpleasant - side effect to throwing around a decent amount of magic while under the sober. Which… might have something to do with how frequently she did magic while intoxicated. With that semi-comforting thought in mind and absolutely no desire to face another of Those Days, Willow tried to roll over and sink back into the blissful embrace of Morpheus. 'Tried' being the operative term; rolling over proved to be rather difficult with something resting on her arm. And so against her better judgement, Willow slowly opened her eyes… and then bit her lip to avoid gasping.

Because evidently she was neither alone in bed nor the first one to have woken up.

Much to her surprise, not one but two pairs of blue eyes were staring back at her. One was slightly closer to Willow than the other, belonging to a very pretty blonde who was currently laying atop Willow's left arm and pinning it to the bed. That explained the whole 'unable to roll' problem. And lying behind the blonde was a slightly younger woman with long and wavy hair that was even redder than Willow's own, grinning impishly as she rested her chin on the blonde's shoulder. And while Willow didn't recognize them per se, she recognized who they were supposed to be. "Uh, hi? So… I'm not in Florida and we're a pretty long way from Anaheim, so I'm guessing not character actresses. Is there a convention in town that I didn't notice?" The two women just stared at her, blinking every few seconds. "Work for some company that does Disney-themed birthday parties or something? Couple with a really interesting way of spicing things up in the bedroom?" The silence stretched on. "…can you even understand me?"

"Yes."

"We just have no idea what you're talking about." Wow. They even had Scottish and Norse accents respectively. Whoever these women were, they were really dedicated to their… whatever this was to them. The Merida look-a-like paused for a moment before bumping her cheek against the imitation Elsa's shoulder. "Or at least I don't. I probably shouldn't speak for her."

Faux-Elsa shook her head in response. "I have no idea what she's talking about either." Opening her mouth to continue, she paused before turning her head to look up at not-Merida. "Speaking of having no idea… who are you, exactly?"

Chuckling softly, Merida bumped her cheek against Elsa's shoulder a few more times. "I thought you knew and were just feeling privileged to be in your princess's presence. Isn't that the sort of thing you ought to ask before getting this close to someone?"

"Do you have any idea who I am?"

"Well no."

"A queen, for one, so if anyone is privileged to be in someone's presence, it's you." Leaving Merida to ponder that, Elsa turned her attention back to Willow. Who was starting to realize that something was very, very wrong. Because either these two women were really, really into their roleplaying or they actually thought they were Else and Merida. The former was weird. The latter suggested either serious psychiatric illness or… Willow didn't want to think about the alternative, really, especially given that she'd done some sort of major magic last night that she couldn't remember. She was starting to suspect what it was, though… "From the look on your face, I'm guessing you know who both of us are?" Willow nodded. "In that case… who are you? And why are we in your bedroom?"

"My name's Willow. Willow Rosenberg. And this isn't my bedroom. Technically. It's a room at a hotel… which you probably don't have in Arendelle or DunBroch. An inn? A tavern? I don't know what's closest; that period in history isn't my best subject." Wiggling her arm until Elsa surrendered it, Willow slid out of bed and stretched before looking around. Her clothes had apparently disappeared into thin air, which had happened before when she was in the mood, so whatever. Considering Elsa could create her dresses from thin air, Willow wasn't surprised to come up empty on that front as well. There was a teal dress thrown over the back of the desk's chair that was slightly worse for wear, but probably still suitable for Merida's use. If not, Willow was pretty sure she could fix it with minimal fuss. Although in their cases, it would be getting dressed purely for the sake of getting dressed. It wasn't as if they could go outside, given… "As for why… considering that you're not real? That is a really good question."

That one drew Merida from her thoughts, the redhead shooting a puzzled look at Willow before scooting back a bit from Elsa as she pulled one hand out from under the sheets. Her hand rose higher, pinching her own cheek experimentally before reaching forward to poke at Elsa's shoulder. "I feel real. So does she." Then Merida grinned mischievously as her hand disappeared from view again; a few seconds later, Elsa let out a yelp of surprise before blushing darkly. "She feels very real."

"Oh! Why you…" Rolling over to face the redhead, Elsa continued to squirm and yelp as Merida tested her realness. Finally, she managed to wrap her arms around Merida and then twisted her body, forcing the giggling redhead onto her back on the bed. Pulling both of Merida's hands up into view, Elsa yanked them up over the ginger's head and then… bound them together with manacles made of ice? Hoo boy. Yeah. She'd accidentally conjured fictional characters while drunk. And evidently turned them gay. She was in so much trouble. Disney was going to sue the heck out of her, if Christian parents' groups didn't kill her first. On the bright side, her Merida was older than the movie's Merida, so at least they weren't in pedophilia territory. "Why are you looking at me like that? You earned that and you know it." The blonde leaned back, revealing a furious expression on Merida's face, and it took Willow far longer than it probably should have to realize exactly why: given the redhead's history with witches, Elsa revealing her abilities had the potential to be… problematic.

As Willow's mind raced, evaluating and discarding various ideas for how to deal with the situation - most of which would require her to reveal her own powers, further alienating Merida - the Scot's expression gradually downshifted from fury to irritation and then eventually to merely annoyed. "I go to my first witch to avoid being married off to a man, and end up getting bedded by my second. There's a certain level of irony to that, I guess."

Willow blinked owlishly; that wasn't how she'd expected that to end at all. Then again, this was an older Merida. Who knew what memories - and accompanying maturity - had been added to bridge the gap between the end of the movie and now? Deciding to take advantage of her seeming acceptance of Elsa, Willow coughed softly to get Merida's attention. "Bedded by the second and third witches." Raising her hand, she created a few motes of light for emphasis.

Looking from Willow's handful of magic to Elsa and back several times, Merida chuckled lowly. "Did I mention irony?"

Elsa nodded in agreement before glancing down at Merida. "You know, I just realized… I still haven't gotten your name. Or given my own."

"Merida NicFhearhgais."

"Elsa Agdardóttir."

"Charmed. Bit chilly, but charmed."

"I wouldn't know what that's like. The cold's never bothered me. Anyway…" Ignoring Merida's muttered curses and squirming, Elsa returned her gaze to Willow. "I think it's safe to say that none of us are unfamiliar with magic. I could wrap my mind around the idea of it bringing me - and her - from our homes to… wherever this is. But I'd really like to hear why you don't think we're real."

How the hell did you explain fictional characters to an actual fictional character? Willow sighed, before realizing that the answer was incredibly obvious. The queen had read tales to Merida in _Brave_ and there had been books - and maybe even a reference to a library; she'd seen the movie a few times in passing but wasn't the hugest fan - in _Frozen_. "Where I'm from… where you are now… your lives are just stories. So are your kingdoms. Arendelle doesn't exist here. It never has. The same with DunBroch." Both of the women were staring at her like she was a bit touched in the head, and so Willow decided to go for broke. "Elsa. When you were younger, you and Anna were playing in the palace using your powers but you accidentally hit her in the head with a blast of magic. Your parents took her to the rock trolls, who healed her but took away her memories of your powers. After that, your powers started getting stronger and so you pretty much stopped leaving your room to protect the people around you."

Elsa rose from the bed and walked toward Willow slowly, staring at the redhead the same way Willow tended to regard frogs and really big spiders. "Nobody alive knows about that. Not even Anna; she knows something happened when we were younger but I never had the heart to tell her that our parents had her memories taken away. There's no way you could know that… unless you're telling the truth." Stopping a few feet in front of Willow, Elsa held her arms out in front of herself as she stared down at them. "It's just… I don't understand. I don't feel any different than when I was 'not real'. I feel like me." Looking up, she tilted her head to one side. "But then… how do you know you're real?" What? "How do you know that this isn't someone's story? If you think can make me, what if someone made you?"

And now her creation was asking deep, metaphysical questions. This was why she was never, ever supposed to play goddess, Willow reminded herself. Or take over the world. Doing it was easy; dealing with the aftermath was a pain in the ass. Especially the paperwork that came with the latter. Neither able to answer Elsa nor in the mood to actually ponder the prospect the blonde had raised, Willow instead chose to turn away in hopes of escaping the blonde's demanding gaze. What she found made her wish she hadn't. Because dead smack in the middle of a mess on the desk that including a few empty liquor bottles, a truly frightening number of candy bar wrappers, and not one but two bouquets of roses… were a pair of marriage certificates. Reaching down to pick one up, Willow froze as the light streaming in through the narrow gap between the curtains glinted off a plain gold band on her ring finger. Raising her hand to her face, she sucked in a breath as she read the inscription. "Ani l'dodi, ve dodi li. Oh shit. Oh. Shit."

"What?"

Whirling back around, Willow forced herself to smile as she looked down at Elsa's hand, spotting an identical ring. And while she couldn't see Merida's hands well thanks to the ice manacles, it was a pretty safe bet to assume she had one too. "Nothing! Nothing. Just… out of curiosity, what do you two remember from last night?"

"Well I was lying in bed in my room when…" Both Elsa and Merida trailed off, looking at each other in surprise before bursting into laughter at their nearly perfectly in sync recitation. Making her way over to the bed, Elsa sat down on the edge before waving one hand negligently and causing Merida's handcuffs to crumble away into nothingness. Which made Willow wonder exactly how the blonde's powers worked, since there should have been a jump in humidity at the very least if she was dispersing the water required to create that volume of ice back into the air in the room. "Sorry, you can go first."

Sitting up, Merida squirmed her way down the bed to join Elsa, wrapping the comforter around her shoulders as she nibbled her lower lip. "Okay. Well… I was at the castle, and then I was here. Willow, you were already pretty drunk by then. I thought this was all just a very strange dream, so I just went with it when you passed me the bottle. Well, bottles plural. We went through a few. I liked the vodka. The tequila tasted like the south end of a northbound horse."

Elsa's eyes widened as she nodded emphatically. "Tequila is terrible." Pausing for a moment, she glanced over at Merida. "Tequila also probably explains why I couldn't remember your name this morning."

"And why I didn't remember you were a witch until you reminded me." Merida giggled at Elsa's curious expression. "You liked tequila so much, you spit out an icicle."

"Oh. Heh."

"Anyway… there was drinking. And then you teleported us somewhere with a chubby man with strange hair, and you and I got married." Merida furrowed her brow, chewing her lower lip harder, before giving up and looking to Elsa for help. "I think you got jealous..?"

Elsa let out a sniff as she looked away, raising her chin. "I wasn't jealous. I just didn't understand why I was the bridesmaid in my own dream. Or what I thought was a dream at the time, at any rate. So I demanded that Willow marry me too. We had to go to a different chubby man, though. Maybe his brother?"

Oh. Well at least she's totally and completely embraced the Vegas cliché, Willow thought with a snort. How she'd managed to get married to two different women in a state where gay marriage was illegal to say nothing of polygamy, she had no idea. Then again, she'd also somehow managed to end up married to fictional characters. Nevada's laws on who was allowed to marry sorta went out the window at that point. She pulled the marriage certificates out from behind her back, seeing no need to dissemble any further. "So you know about these, then."

Elsa raised a slender blond brow at the question that technically wasn't. "While I wasn't sure what form any records might take in this strange land, I knew that we were married, yes."

"…and this doesn't freak you out?"

"Not really. At least I didn't lay with someone that I wasn't married to. Well, other than Merida. Does that still count, since I'm married to you and you're married to her?"

…yes, because premarital sex would have been the worst possible outcome in this situation.


End file.
